Chasing You (Viktor Krum X Reader)

Chapter 7: Am I in a Coma and Dreaming Myself in a Romance Novel?

Chapter 7: Am I in a Coma and Dreaming Myself in a Romance Novel?

"Come on! Up, up!" Professor Sprout chants. "The Yule Ball is a privilege to attend and you must learn how to dance properly. Up!"

I sigh and push myself off the floor. The Hufflepuff house is gathered in the Great Hall, which has been emptied of all the tables and chairs. Professor Sprout told us that we reserved the Great Hall for an hour for dance practice.

An hour of this torture.

"Get a partner. Come on, now! We don't have all day. Remember the steps that I taught you," she calls over her shoulder as she hustles to the side and starts the track of music.

"Excuse me, Miss, may I have your hand for this dance?" Cedric asks me with a grin on his face, bowing down as he extends a hand.

"I don't know whether having you as a partner will make this more or less mortifying," I mumble and set my hand in his.

"You can't scare me. Come on, killer, show me what you've got," Cedric says as he sets his hand on my waist, tugging me closer to him.

"I'm just warning you that I have never done this before," I say and rest my hand on his shoulder.

"It can't be that bad," he scoffs and grabs my other hand. My body then decides to prove him wrong. While he glides gracefully around, I struggle to coordinate my feet. "Your date is going to have one hell of a time with you," he laughs as I stumble over his foot, nearly bringing him down with me.

"This is going to be humiliating," I mutter.

And humiliating it is, I realize when the Yule Ball arrives.

Viktor waits for me outside of my common room, adorning a nice set of dress robes and slicked-back hair. He offers his arm in a slightly odd, yet sweet and gentlemanly manner, and we make our way to the Great Hall for the ball. It's decorated beautifully, but I'm still very nervous about having to dance, especially since, according to Professor Sprout, the champions have to commence the dancing, meaning that all eyes are going to be on us as I stumble around like a buffoon.

"You look very nice," Viktor says quietly as we come to a stop in the Great Hall, waiting for McGonagall's cue. "Your dress is my favorite color."

"Is it?" I ask, looking down at the dress. "Mine too."

"It suits you," he says.

"Thank you. You look great as well. I really like your hair slicked back," I say and look at his hair, instinctively raising my hand as if to touch it. I force my hand back to my side and smile.

"Should I do it more often?" he asks and raises a hand to his hair.

"Well, it always looks good. You always look good. I'm going to stop talking before I embarrass myself," I say and shake my head. He grins and holds a hand out for me to take as McGonagall herds us toward the dance floor.

Viktor rests his hand on my waist, and I drape mine over his shoulder. That much I have down.

"Relax," he murmurs into my ear as his fingers lace through mine. I wet my lips with my tongue when his breath ghosts over the shell of my ear. I wonder if he feels me shudder against him. "It'll only be for a couple of minutes. Do not think about it."

"Easier said than done. I suck at dancing," I mutter and try to move with Viktor the best I can when the music begins. He moves with a fluidity that he doesn't have when he walks, similar to his flying in terms of grace. Viktor is a fairly big guy, tall with wide shoulders, and he tends to walk around with an air of awkwardness, but when he's flying, you could tell that he's meant to be there. There's the same air about his dancing. Soon, more people begin joining us so the pressure dissipates.